


a brief encounter

by jestbee



Series: Drabbles for Donations [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), M/M, TV Show, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jestbee/pseuds/jestbee
Summary: "Smile. Act nice. This is your audience."Richie looks out over the convention hall. A booth in front of him has a proud sign announcing 'The BEST in ghost hunting technology', in a neon green font."I don't think they are."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Drabbles for Donations [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775191
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	a brief encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RachelIsWriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RachelIsWriting/gifts).



> This is an introductory scene as part of a much larger project. This drabble was commissioned by Racheliswriting as part of Drabbles for Donations supporting BLM fundraising.

Richie had no fucking idea why they asked him to come here. 

"You did read the pitch of my show before you decided to produce it, right?" Richie says. 

Bev shoots him a cool look, raises an eyebrow at him and tucks her hair behind her ear. She's done with his shit already and they've only been working together for a few months. "I read it," she says. "Smile. Act nice. This is your audience." 

Richie looks out over the convention hall. A booth in front of him has a proud sign announcing 'The BEST in ghost hunting technology', in a neon green font.

"I don't think they are."

Bev sighs. She's tapping away at her phone but she takes a moment to squeeze Richie's arm between her strong, capable fingers. "Richard," she says because she thinks that full naming him will have any effect at all. It didn't work when his mom did it, and it isn't going to work now. 

"Yes?" he hums. 

"You are quickly becoming my biggest headache."

"And this is only the beginning of our working relationship, Red." 

"Not if you carry on."

Richie grins and Bev rolls her eyes. 

"Look, I know you want me to hire that nice historian we met the other day because he shares your love of sensationalist macabre, so here is what is going to happen. You are going to behave. You are going to attend this convention and speak to people, you are going to mention The Tozier Files at least once in every conversation you have, and then we are going back to the studio execs to tell them that we drummed up some business for the venture I'm going out on a limb for. Okay?" 

"Jeez," Richie says, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine. But also, I'd like to point out that you want to hire Bill too because he came off the recommendation from that camera guy you like. The one built like a haystack." 

Bev's mouth twitches. She's faintly amused so Richie hasn't burnt all his bridges just by being himself. Not yet, anyway. 

"Also The Tozier Files is a dreadful name, I'm still against it." 

"Noted," Bev says, with no indication that she actually cares. 

Richie wants to press it but he knows he isn't going to win. Bev's company is paying for the show, so they get to name it. Richie really doesn't want his name on it, because it isn't about _him_ so much as it is about proving that all of this is a fucking farce, but he'll roll with it if he has to. 

"Go," Bev says, eventually, patting him on the butt, "mingle." 

"I'm going, I'm going." 

Richie straightens his shoulders, as much as he ever does, and heads off into the crowded hall. There are more stalls offering just as much nonsense at the first, each with its own line of gullible hacks just waiting to buy what they are offering.

Richie knows that these are the people that are going to watch his show, but he also knows that they are the same ones that will send complaint emails when they realise he isn't out to prove the existence of ghosts. This entire hall is filled to the brim with people acting under the assumption that there is something in the beyond, that the dead haunt us all the time and you just need the right piece of technology to catch them. Worse yet, there are those that prey on the vulnerable people left behind with promises of communication to the other side. 

It makes Richie sick.

Richie knows the truth, and he wants to make a different kind of TV show. The kind that challenges all of this, that stands to prove that the things people see in these old, dusty places are nothing more than creaking foundations and tricks of the light. It's not going to be easy, but the studio is up for it and Richie has always liked a challenge. 

He makes his way to the back of the hall. He isn't doing exactly what Bev asked him to, but he doesn't stop the guy with the 'ghost vision' goggles and tell him he's a fucking idiot so all in all he's counting it as a win. 

Along the back wall is a large overhead banner in slate grey with the words 'Niebolt Investigations' across it. Richie has no idea what that is, or why it's occupying an entire wall of the convention centre, but it's standing between him and the coffee cart so he walks a bit closer. 

The crowd is thicker here, each of them sporting cameras and craning their necks to get a closer look at whatever lies beyond the queue barrier with its black retractable tape. There's music playing from a tinny speaker, one of those suspenseful, spooky tunes with too much violin for Richie's tastes. 

Richie spots the line at the coffee cart and decides to go via the bathroom first. If he hides there long enough he might be able to convince Bev he actually bothered to talk the show up to people, and then she might let him leave. 

There isn't a queue on the bathroom like he thought there would be, so he's able to take care of business fairly quickly. He's washing his hands before he even sees another person, and when he does it's a short, dark-haired man who bursts into the room and runs over to the sink, muttering under his breath. 

He scrubs at his hands furiously, shaking his head. His mouth is set in a firm line, and there are soft wrinkles on his forehead where his brow is furrowed. He looks mad as hell, but Richie can't stop looking at him. 

"You alright, man?" 

The guy looks up, as if only just noticing Richie is in the room with him. "Huh? Yeah. Yeah, I'm… it's cool." 

He still looks mad, the tips of his ears have turned pink and Richie stifles a laugh. 

"Sure dude, if you say so." 

The guy finishes washing his hands and then look up into the mirror. He runs a now-clean hand through his hair even though it isn't even the littlest bit disrupted and takes a breath. 

"Sorry," he says. 

"Don't have to apologise to me," Richie shrugs and takes in his own reflection. He looks scruffy next to this guy and his polo shirt. Richie has a geometrically patterned button-up on over a band shirt and he can't remember the last time he combed his hair. There's too much stubble on his chin because he's misplaced his razor and he looks tired from staying up too late last night. Though in his defence, there was a really great true crime re-run marathon on and he didn't want to miss it. 

"I'm Eddie," the guy says.

He doesn't stick a hand out for Richie to shake and so Richie doesn't offer one either. 

"Richie," he says. 

"You enjoying the convention?" 

"Uhh, sure," Richie says, unable to help the laugh that comes after it. "Let's go with that." 

Eddie surveys him for a second, his eyes narrowing the tiniest amount. It strikes Richie that he's really attractive and that he's definitely putting out some kind of vibe by lingering in the bathroom with him. 

"You?" Richie asks. 

"Sure," Eddie says. "What company are you with?" 

"Excuse me?" 

Eddie signals to the lanyard around Richie's neck, and the badge hanging from the bottom. He's got an exhibitor badge even though this isn't an official appearance because Bev wanted him to have access to everything. There's an industry chat tomorrow that she's dying for him to go to because it will be 'good for him to meet people', but Richie thinks he'd rather skip it and spend the day eating pizza in his hotel room. 

"Not one you'll have heard of," Richie assures him. 

"Ah." 

Eddie doesn't make any moves to go, and he's now between Richie and the exit. Not that he minds, he'd much rather be here in this awkward conversation than out there with all of those lunatics. 

"You?" Richie asks. 

"Uh… I'm with Niebolt?" Eddie says, eyebrows raising as if he's surprised Richie asked. 

"The big one at the back?" 

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head, "Yeah. That's the one." 

"Shit, looks like you're busy." 

"You could say that," Eddie says. He looks over his shoulder, sighing lightly. 

"You had quite the crowd hanging around," Richie says. 

"Everyone wants a piece of me," Eddie says quietly like he's mostly saying it to himself. 

"Well, I can't blame them."

Eddie looks up at him and Richie gives him a very obvious once-over. Eddie's cheeks turn pink to match his ears and that pleases Richie no end. 

"Are you…" Richie says, grinning, "Are you hiding out in here?" 

"No."

"You are! You're hiding." 

"Fuck off," Eddie replies quickly. "I mean, shit, sorry. No. I'm not hiding." 

"It's cool," Richie says, leaning back against the bank of sinks. "I get it." 

Eddie purses his lips and sticks his tongue into his cheek. "Yeah. Well, I should probably head back." 

"Okay."

Eddie doesn't move. If he doesn't want to leave, then Richie isn't going to make him. In fact, if he wants to stay then Richie isn't going to complain at all. He's intrigued by him, truth be told, he's blazing mad one moment then deflated the next and Richie kind of wants to find out why.

"You here tomorrow?" Eddie says. 

"My boss wants me to be." 

"You staying nearby?" 

"Sure am. The motel off the freeway, nothing fancy." 

"I'm there too," Eddie says, and then they lapse into silence again as if Eddie is waiting for something. 

He's cute, and Richie doesn't usually do this, but there has to be a way to make this weekend more tolerable. 

"Can I have your number?" Richie says. 

"What?" 

"Fuck man, I could be reading this totally wrong but… You're here. I'm here. We both wanna hide away from the crowds for a bit… figured we might be able to entertain ourselves." 

"Oh." 

Richie takes half a step back, shrugging. "It's fine," he says, even though he'd definitely thought that Eddie was putting out vibes like he was coming on to him. It was subtle, much more subtle that Richie is used to, but he could have sworn that was what was happening. Maybe these ghost dudes do things differently. 

"No I… yeah," Eddie says. He holds his hand out for Richie's phone and the types his number in when Richie gives it to him.

"I'll give you a call later," Richie says. "Good luck out there."

Eddie nods, and then finally makes to leave the bathroom. Richie follows behind, and Eddie gives him a smile as he walks off in the direction of his huge display. Richie watches him go. 

"No," says a voice to his right. 

He turns to find Bev, phone still in her hand, tapping her foot. 

"What?" 

"You did not just make eyes at Eddie Kaspbrak." 

"Eddie?" Richie says, "You know him?" 

"You don't?" 

Richie shakes his head, looking back over at the large crowd, and Eddie ducking back into it. 

"Eddie is the lead on Neibolt Investigations. You know. The show on the same network as The Tozier Files?" 

"What?" Richie whips his head back around to look at her. 

"You're impossible," Bev says, sighing. "Do you know nothing about the field you're going into?" 

"I know it's a pile of shit," Richie says, "I know that everyone here is a chump who believes everything our show is seeking to disprove. But beyond that… no." 

"Well, Eddie Kaspbrak is one of those chumps. His show is the leading one for the network right now and he's doing the kind of work in opposition to yours. He's got a killer team, a historian who knows his shit, and he believes so hard that he makes his audience believe it too. In short, Tozier, he's your biggest competition." 

"Shit." 

Bev glances at her watch, "Is it too much to hope that you were talking to him about our show?" 

"Definitely too much to ask."

Bev slips her phone back into her purse for the first time since they arrived. "Come on," she says. 

"Where are we going?" 

"To get a drink. Then you're going to talk to some actual industry people." 

"Can I have whiskey?" 

"You can have whatever you want if I can get you to promote the show at least once while we're here. Alright?" 

Richie acquiesces and he follows Bev back across the convention hall to a small bar on the other side. He doesn't know if it's a good idea to offer a bunch of unhinged paranormal believers alcohol, but that's what they've decided to do. Either way, he isn't complaining. 

Eddie Kapsbrak is his biggest competition. He thinks about the small, compact bundle of anger that had burst into the bathroom, and the way his face as flushed under Richie's assessing gaze. Richie loves a challenge and seducing Eddie Kaspbrak while beating his show at sweeps might be the best one yet. 

He's already got a head start because Eddie has no idea who he is, and he already has Eddie's number. The only question that remains is whether he'll use it.


End file.
